Rubik's Revenge
by hameronaddict aka literatigirl
Summary: When Cameron falls sick and becomes one of his patients, House has a hard time figuring out what’s wrong with her. Will he be able to save her before the time runs out? And will he finally start facing his feelings for her? M for subsequent chapters
1. Walking Spanish

_Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing._

_A.N.: This it set sometime during Season 4 (a few months after 'Games'). I don't have a beta, so I'm very sorry if there are a lot of mistakes. So, enough said:_

_On with the story!_

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**WALKING SPANISH**

"You're fired." House grumbled, leaning back in his chair, folding his hands on top of his chest and tipping his index fingers against one another in front of his mouth while scanning the woman ahead of him with his scrutinizing gaze.

"What?" Thirteen who had planted herself in front of his desk looked at her boss in utter disbelief.

"You're fired." he echoed his former statement gruffly. "Do you want me to spell it out for you?"

"But you can't just…"

"I can. I just did."

"Why? That's not fair!"

"Suck it up, Princess. Life _is_ not fair ... get used to it."

The young internist took a few seconds to digest the just heard and tried hardly to come up with a reason why the older doctor could possibly want to give her the pink slip.

"Is it because …"

"Yes, damn right." he cut her off raising his voice, angrily banging his open palms on his desk, the sudden noise causing her to cringe slightly. "You disobeyed my orders, acted without my permission and treated the patient behind my back."

Not one to be outdone, Thirteen matched her tone of voice with his and decided to defend her doing.

"I did what I had to do to save the man's life."

"You almost killed the guy."

"Because he was allergic to the treatment not because it was the wrong diagnosis."

"I don't care." House yelled getting more indignant by the minute. "You can't do as you please just because you're easy on the eyes. It's my call what gets to be done. Foreman and Taub are more than enough already. I don't need another one undermining my authority."

"But you were wrong."

"Hitler was wrong. The fat guy who screwed up the million-dollar-question last week was wrong. Roy was wrong when he confused a full-grown carnivore with a pussycat. Hell, even God was wrong thinking Satan was just a nice guy with a pronounced egotism. But _me_? I may not always be _right_ - but I'm _never wrong_."

Although she should have been used to his impudent arrogance by now, this self-opinionated statement caused her to narrow her eyes at him in an angry gesture.

"You're an ass."

"Well, life is all about ass, isn't it?" he countered, her former declaration not fazing him in the least. "Everyone's either covering it, laughing it off, kicking it, trying to get a piece of it or simply just being one. I would prefer the second last but let's be honest: At _my_ age getting lucky is finding my car in the parking lot."

"So, that's it?" she asked not further paying attention to his nonsense and trying to lead the conversation back to the matter at hand.

"Yup." he retorted, the 'p' making a plopping sound. "Put the big girl panties on and deal with it."

"Go to hell!"

"Uh," he countered scrunching up his nose. "… better not. I've got a restraining order."

Her eyes bore angrily into his one last time before she stormed out of his office, slamming the door on her way out and leaving a slightly smirking House behind.

_MDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMD_

When he leisurely limped out of the elevator in the direction of his office the following day, Gregory House was greeted by the outraged voice of his 'favorite' employer echoing down the hallway.

"House!"

Judging by the determined look on her face she had a bone to pick with him. Not in the mood for another one of her tirades, he quickly disappeared around the next corner, desperately hoping that she hadn't noticed.

But no such luck. He had barely been able to walk a few steps when he heard the tell-tale clicking sound of her heels.

"House!" she called again but this time it sounded a lot closer.

Finally realizing that he had been caught, he stopped dead in his tracks, silently cursing himself for his obviously too sluggish attempt to escape the wrath of Lisa Cuddy.

Hearing the footsteps get closer and closer he opted to turn around, giving her his most languid look and raising his eyebrows in anticipation of what was to come.

"What the hell did you do?" she snapped once she came to a stop in front of him.

"Who? Me?" he asked trying his best to look innocent.

"Why did you fire Thirteen?"

"She was wearing blue on 'Yellow Friday'."

"House!" Cuddy snapped in a warning tone, not in the mood to put up with his shit. She put her hands on her hips, impatiently waiting for his reply.

"Does it matter?" House asked not really keen to discuss that matter.

Cuddy answered the question with a look you would give an eight-year-old you were about to ground.

"The screw up fairy paid her another visit." he stated by way of explanation.

Knowing House for a very long time, she knew that this was the best clarification she would get from him. Admitting defeat, she let out a deep sigh.

"I told you there has to be a woman in your team. You need a little estrogen amongst all this piled up testosterone. Someone who is able to prevent you guys from breaking each others skull." Cuddy declared matter-of-factly, adding in a flirtatious tone: "And aside from that I very well know that you love to have someone you can fluster with your silly little innuendos."

House looked at her for a few seconds, pondering if she may have a point.

"You sound reasonable…" he concluded finally. "Time to put up my medication."

No sooner said than done, he popped two Vicodin into his mouth and dry-swallowed them quickly, earning him a significant look from the Dean of Medicine.

"Get Amber back for all I care. Just…find someone."

"Okay." he agreed without further ado, turned his back on her and restarted on his way to his office.

"And House?!" she cat-called at his retreating form causing him to stop and glance at her over his shoulder. "Get your butt down to the clinic."

Smirking, he continued to hobble down the hallway thinking about his order to hire a new female doctor for his team. He really had no desire to start another selection procedure and the thought of rehiring the 'Cutthroat Bitch' gave him the creeps. No, he didn't want any of that. Deep inside of him he knew exactly what he'd like best. There was only one woman he could continuously stand working with but he was also aware of the fact that his chances to get her back were slim to none.

'Oh, to the heck with it!' he thought. 'No guts, no glory.'

Determined not to waste any time, he quickly limped into his office, threw his backpack on his desk, darted out of the room in record time for a guy with a cane and set out for the hospital's emergency room.


	2. Unwell

_A.N.: I just want to thank tiflissa, sabu53, Danielle, Limaccia, the psycho sour skittle, sweetgreuy, Helias and randombitsofnothing for their great reviews. They always put a smile on my face. ;)_

_But now on with the next chapter: _

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**  
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**UNWELL**

Moments later, House pushed his way through scurrying nurses, abandoned gurneys and anxious relatives, constantly watching out for the familiar face of his former employee and every so often using his cane to kick someone in the shin if they didn't get out of the way quickly enough for his liking.

Ever since she had started working in the ER they had occasionally met in the cafeteria or one had visited the other at his workplace for some reason. Sometimes to get a consult, sometimes in search of a new patient and sometimes – well, actually most oft the time - just to hang out and chat.

Now nearly four weeks had gone by since he had last caught sight of her. At first because he had been too occupied with a new case and then because she had taken a much needed vacation. Hawaii, Bahamas, Barbados or some other place on earth surrounded by water he could no longer recall. Not that it really mattered.

He would never admit it - even if his life depended on it – but secretly he missed the playful banter that usually took place whenever they ran into each other.

Through the grapevine he had heard that she must have broken up with the wombat. The gossip factory was working overtime about the reason behind it. If one could believe the tittle-tattle to be true, the Australian had left the Princeton Plainsboro and accepted a job offer at the Massachusetts General in Boston.

Maybe this new development would pay off in his favor and heighten his afore rather miniscule chances to win her back. After all she had quit her job as a reaction to him firing her boy-toy beforehand, hadn't she? Out of sympathy or a false sense of obligation: Who knew! And to be honest, he didn't really care either.

He rounded another corner and there she was: Allison Cameron. She was so engrossed in the examination of her current patient that she didn't even look up once, oblivious of his presence.

So, he leaned against the nearest wall and grasped the opportunity to watch her undisturbed. Like an extremely captivating piece of art, he could never get tired of just looking at her. She had always been exceptionally beautiful but this time he noticed something different about her.

Her hair had changed to a darker shade of blond than the last time he had laid eyes on her, the warm color making it look more natural and flattering. Loose waves framed her delicate features in a very appealing way and her skin – a tell-tale sign that she had spent her holidays in the sun – had acquired a wonderfully luscious tan.

When she was finally done with the patient, she raised her eyes and caught him staring at her from across the room. Their glances melded over the hustle and bustle of the busy emergency room, binding them together like two links of the same chain.

Only now he noticed that she didn't look recovered at all, like it was to be expected after a long vacation by the sea, but rather seemed haggard and weary. Normally vivid and lively, she now looked utterly exhausted.

She closed the curtain which shielded the patient from the view of unwelcome observers and approached him with a hint of a smile on her face, holding his gaze all the time and stripping off the gloves she had worn during the examination on the way, disposing of them in the nearest trash can.

"Hey!" she said in a flirtatious tone once she came to a stop directly in front of him.

"Hey!" he echoed her greeting, a barely detectable grin flashing over his lips.

"New haircut?" Cameron asked nosily, instantly noticing that his hair was a whole lot shorter than usual.

"No, it's fall. I'm shedding!"

His typically cutting remark won him a broad smile which lighted up her face in a very endearing way and mastered to chase away the overly wan look for at least a few seconds.

"What are you doing here?" she asked still smiling.

"The Wicked Witch tried to lure me into her gingerbread house. Thought I'd make a run for it before she ends up spanking me with her broomstick again. I still got those nasty bruises." he stated vividly and added with a waggle of his eyebrows: "Wanna see?"

Cameron's response was just a significant roll of her eyes.

"Why are you really here?"

House plainly stared at her for a few seconds, pondering the best way to tackle the subject. Just as he finally opened his mouth to speak he was interrupted by the help-seeking cry of one of the nurses.

"Dr. Cameron!"

"Sorry, got to go!" his former duckling excused herself in an apologetic tone of voice. "Duty is calling."

She turned around and headed for the booth the nurse had pointed to. House looked after her until she had disappeared behind the curtain and decided eventually to follow her.

When he opened the concealing piece of fabric he was greeted with the sight of Cameron wrestling a very battered looking druggie. Although both of the patient's arms were securely strapped to the bed, the young doctor was failing miserably at the attempt to inject him with the mild sedative that was filling the syringe she was holding. The guy was struggling persistently against the ties that were holding him down, making it completely impossible for her to get the right angle.

"Need help?" House asked after a few seconds of silent observation.

Startled, she looked up into his eyes and he noticed that this little incident seemed to have taken its toll on her since she looked even more exhausted now than she did a couple of minutes before.

"Ya. Thanks." she answered gratefully.

He hobbled further into the room, leaned his cane against the edge of the bed and went to stand behind Cameron, pinning down the patients upper- and forearm to allow her unimpeded access to his veins no matter how much the guy would struggle and trapping her therewith effectively in between the circle of his arms.

He stood so close that their bodies were almost touching. The tension between them was nearly tangible, charging the room with a sudden surge of prickly electricity.

Her breath hitched in her throat when she felt the gentle puff of his breath on her cheek, caressing her like a feather. She involuntarily closed her eyes as a slight whiff of his after-shave reached her nostrils, making her head spin with dizzy delight. Why he was wearing such even though he obviously didn't even know how to spell the word 'shaving' was a mystery to her and she damned herself for the effect that he evidently still had on her.

Shaking herself out of her reverie she had trouble concentrating on the task at hand. She tried to calm her shaky fingers as she finally succeeded to administer the sedative to the almost forgotten patient.

Meanwhile their close proximity didn't leave House unaffected either. The heat she was emitting made a shudder run down his spine and he felt a wave of unacquainted sensations flooding his senses. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and inhaled the sweet scent of her perfume mixed with something that was uniquely her.

"Like the way I smell?" Cameron asked boldly, bringing him back to reality. She hadn't been able to refrain from smiling when she had felt the sudden change in his breathing on her skin.

She turned her face halfway so that she was able to look at him, bringing their face even closer together. Needing to break the spell her eyes had on him, House jumped back as if stung by an adder.

"Just checking if you are wearing the same after-shave as Wilson." he snapped, looking everywhere but at her.

Not one to be fooled so easily, she instantly unmasked his hurtful comment as what it really was: A desperate attempt to hide his disconcertedness at being caught.

Remembering that she still held the needle in her hand, she headed towards the trash can to finally dispose of it. Out of the corner of his eye, House saw that she suddenly started to stagger. Without thinking he let go of his cane, which fell to the floor with a loud thump and jumped forward catching her just in time before she slumped down unconscious.

Trying his best to drown the rising tide of panic inside of him, he started yelling to alert one of the nurses:

"I could use a little help here."


	3. A New Zebra 1

_A.N.: Big thanks to Metal-Battle-nYuu, Limaccia, sabu53, tiflissa, JK Willett, Dr.Kevorkian, ShipperCrazed - FanFicCrazy, wtlozy and J-ME for their reviews. I love them. :)  
_

_Sorry for the long wait!_

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**A NEW ZEBRA (1)**

When Cameron came to after what seemed like an eternity, she closed her eyes almost as quickly again as she had opened them, waiting for the sparkly white flecks of light to vanish which were currently dancing across her field of vision.

She could hear the vivid jumble of voices coming from all sides around her, the sedulous patter of feet, the faint flicker of a fluorescent tube, the constant buzz of medical devices and the steady beeping of a heart monitor nearby.

Her recollection of the events leading to her current position was kinda hazy. She remembered beginning her shift this morning. She remembered talking to House. She remembered him helping her with a patient. And then she remembered feeling dizzy and seeing black dots which had gotten wider and wider until they flooded her entire vision and after that nothing at all.

Tentatively, she opened her eyes anew and was glad to notice that the visual disturbance had more or less diminished. She was obviously lying in one of the ER's hospital beds. The curtains were partially drawn, giving her a little privacy but at the same time providing the nurses with the opportunity to check on her.

A light shuffling sound to her left caused her to turn her head in the direction it was coming from. Her eyes traveled across the soft linen of the bedcover, which blanketed the lower part of her anatomy, and the pale linoleum flooring, finally landing on a pair of charcoal-colored Converse which led to a pair of denim covered legs, slightly away from her bed. And if she wouldn't have been already sure at this point whom those well-worn shoes belonged to, all doubt was resolved at the very latest as she made out a flame-adorned black cane accompanying them.

She shifted her gaze upwards along his dark blue jeans, his folded hands on top of his cane sustaining his weight, his rumpled light-blue shirt and his grey sports coat before ultimately settling on his distinctive features.

His head bowed downwards, he was eyeing her searchingly with a look in those amazing pools of blue she had trouble to decipher because she had never seen it before. Was it worried? Caring? Compassionate? Or was there just her wishful thinking speaking?

Her musings came to a sudden halt when she was interrupted by his voice - uncharacteristically soft and sensitive.

"Hey!"

"Hey!" she croaked huskily, her throat still sore from the momentary loss of consciousness.

Her glance fell onto a filled water carafe and a plastic cup on a little table beside her bed. When House saw her reaching for it with shaky fingers, he swiftly took a few steps forward, got rid of his cane and took hold of the glassy jug himself.

Pouring a proper amount of the refreshing liquid into the designated cup, he offered it to her without a single word. Surprised by this unfamiliar sign of care on his part, she accepted it gingerly, her fingers slightly brushing his.

"Thanks!" Cameron uttered gratefully, carefully bringing the plastic vessel to her lips intent to spill as little of its contents as possible before downing it in one swig.

"You look like crap." Greg House remarked in a low tone, trying to deflect from his amiable gesture, his voice back to its usual raspy quality. He was trying hard to shake the feeling of uneasiness this involuntary presentation of sympathy had created.

She shot him a look, attempting her best to seem annoyed but not really succeeding. She was still feeling too weak to stock it with its usual bite.

"What happened?" she asked, finally trying to bring light into her situation.

"You fainted like a junior high school girl on a 'Backstreet Boys' concert. Had to call the unshaved Mozart ball and the Oompa Loompa over there to get your little butt on the stretcher." he replied mockingly, motioning to the nurse's station with a move of his head, where a bearded, heavily overweight male nurse was currently engaged in a hushed conversation with a very tiny but equally sturdy female colleague.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine." she replied stubbornly.

"Yeah, right!" he countered incredulously, stretching the last word for emphasis.

Her face was ashen, drained of all its color and she looked even more skinny than usual. He hadn't noticed it before because the scrubs she had been wearing were obscuring most of her body but she must've lost at least 5 pounds.

"I just had a lot of stress lately. That's all." She wasn't so sure who she was trying to convince: Him or herself?

"Oh, shut up." he barked harshly, his volume rising rapidly. "_You_ are _everything_ but fine. You just had a vacation for God's sake. You can't be_that_ stressed out. Look at you, for crying out loud! You're looking like a fucking wallpapered skeleton. You just passed out a few minutes ago and your heart rate has skyrocket through the roof. I'm not letting you go anywhere. You're going to stay here for the night so I am able to keep an eye on you."

She was slightly taken aback by this sudden outburst. She could see the fury mixed with something else still lurking in the depths of his eyes. Secretly she was glad that he obviously cared enough about her well-being to get that much enraged but nonetheless that didn't deter her from opening her mouth to voice her dissent. However, she didn't have the time to get out one single word before he silenced her with an intensity in his tone and gaze that finally caused her to cave in.

"You're staying and that's that!"

Meekly, she nodded her acceptance and felt him calm down visibly. Only now she realized that she was no longer wearing the clothes she had put on after her shower this morning. Obviously, someone had stripped and changed her into a hospital gown to hook her up to the heart monitor that was still steadily beeping in the background.

Upon further inspection she came to the sudden realization that she was _only_wearing the gown and her panties - nothing else! And judging by the shamelessly smug grin he had currently plastered on his face… OH, NO! He wouldn't! - Oh, who was she kidding! Of course, he would!

Noticing her horrified expression and knowing exactly what was going through that pretty little had of hers right at this moment, he had a hard time biting back a chuckle.

"I promise I inspected you from a purely medical point of view." he interrupted her inner monologue mockingly with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Cross my heart!" he added playfully, placing both of his hands on his chest in a theatrical gesture.

"Oh god!" she muttered under her breath, her cheeks flushing lightly.

"Relax. It was a joke." he finally clarified which earned him an evil eye on her part. "The dwarf did it."

In fact the tiny nurse had hauled him outside the booth quite rudely before drawing the curtains rather forcefully while eyeing him with a look of utter disdain. Of course that hadn't kept him from trying to sneak a peek through the narrow gap between the two parts of the fabric but much to his chagrin her broad back had blocked his view and he hadn't gotten to see any juicy details at all. What a shame!

Cameron watched warily as House – still without his cane - hobbled awkwardly around the front of the bed and to the cabinets on her right. Opening one drawer after another, he started rummaging around obviously in search of something in particular and finally returning to her bedside with an ophthalmoscope in his right hand, not bothering to shut the drawers he had ransacked afore.

"Scooch over." he ordered her to make room for him to sit on her bed. "I want to check your eyes."

He averted his attention from her temporarily to fiddle with the medical instrument in his hands, waiting for her to do as she was told. When he finally succeeded to turn the damn thing on, he lifted his eyes again and was met with an expression on her face that made his blood run cold.

"What's wrong?" His stomach was suddenly starting to constrict painfully.

"I…" she began, fear and consternation nearly choking her. "I can't move my legs."

He was sure that his heart missed a beat as he was looking into her horror-stricken face.


	4. A New Zebra 2

_A.N.: I'm so sorry for the long wait and for this being so short. I'll try to change for the better. ;)_

_Big thank you to my awesome reviewers Limaccia, lillianrose4, band122005, Insane Shelton, tiflissa, vands88, coffeeberry, nomoviescriptending, madpsychogirl, -xMrs.Gregory.Housex-, charmedphoibe, aude.fr, Ocein, sabu53 and Danielle Lynne. You are the best!_

_Special thanks to my lovely new beta **bones4life**. ;)  
_

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**A NEW ZEBRA (2)**

In the meantime, House's three remaining ducklings were – more or less productively - trying to pass their time in the conference room. Since they had already solved their current case the day before and their boss seemed to be even later than usual, there was absolutely nothing substantial left to do. Foreman decided to use the time to bring the charts of their latest patients up to date, while Taub buried his nose in the newest issue of a medical magazine. Kutner however, was absorbed in one of his beloved Sudoku puzzles which was obviously too tricky for him considering the fact that he was constantly cursing under his breath, frantically crossing out the just scribbled numbers.

The latter, who had started to rock his chair backwards and forwards, nearly tumbled over and the others looked up wonderingly when the door flew suddenly open, hitting the contiguous glass wall with a loud bang, and their gruff and usually indolent boss stormed into the room with an oddly troubled look on his face.

Not deigning to look at his astonished fellows, House tossed three copies of a file onto the table between them and made a beeline for the whiteboard, immediately getting down to business.

"32 year-old female presenting with muscle weakness, fatigue, tachycardia, weight loss…" he enumerated the symptoms, quickly jotting them down.

While Kutner was still busy trying to figure out his boss' odd behavior – the lack of a sarcastic greeting and the absence of any form of concealed insult, which House invariably favored to throw his way, had really thrown him off - Foreman was eager to find out why this case seemed to have raised House's interest in such an encompassing way.

He quickly grabbed one of the files and started skimming through it when he suddenly stumbled upon the patient's name.

"Cameron?" the neurologist asked incredulously, causing House to pause his writing mid-word and his colleagues to look inquiringly from one to the other.

"The patient is _Cameron_?" Foreman questioned again, pressing for information.

House, still with his back to the others, remained stiff as a poker, letting out a shaky breath. A few seconds lapsed away silently before he finally answered, scarcely audible.

"Ya."

"What happened?" Foreman inquired worriedly, House's strangely withdrawn demeanor further fueling his concern.

"She passed out during her shift in the ER." House replied meekly over his shoulder, still doing his best to avoid eye contact.

"Did something trigger the syncope?"

"No. But she seemed unwell and exhausted before it happened. And when she came to afterwards she'd lost sensation in her legs."

"How do you know that nothing occurred beforehand?" Taub piped up.

"I was there when it happened."

"Why were you…?" Foreman wondered but House cut him off, furiously spinning around.

"Could we stop playing 20 questions and start finding out what's wrong with our patient?"

"Sure." all three doctors answered feebly in unison.

"Great!" House grumbled, turning his attention back to the whiteboard and adding syncope, hypotension, and dizziness to the symptoms.

"Okay guys," he initiated, addressing his fellows. "…any ideas?"

"Could be an infection." Kutner was the first to offer.

"No fever."

"Maybe Diabetes." Foreman suggested thoughtfully. "Explains the muscle weakness, rapid pulse, dizziness, fatigue and weight loss."

"Maybe." House replied, taking it into consideration. "What else?"

"What about toxins?" Taub interjected, finally participating in the discussion.

"Hit me."

"Could be lead intoxication." the plastic surgeon continued.

"Possible."

"Mercury." Kutner offered.

"Or an organophosphate poisoning." Foreman added.

"Okay!" House exclaimed finally. "Taub, do a CBC and an FBS test to rule out Diabetes! Kutner, run a tox screen! Foreman, get the patient history! And don't forget to fill in all the _black_ holes."

The three younger doctors didn't need to be told twice and quickly toddled off, Foreman shooting him a disapproving look on his way out. House waited a few seconds until they were out of sight before turning back to the whiteboard, the factitious mask of his usual sarcasm quickly vanishing, superseded by a look of utter concern. Propping himself against the board and gloomily hanging his head, he squeezed his eyes shut, unable to stop himself from mulling the events over and over in his head and hoping against the uneasy feeling in his gut, which was telling him otherwise, that everything would turn out okay.


End file.
